DragonKnight - Donita K. Paul [88]
“Have you ever stolen beauty?”
“No, I have not.”
Granny Kye approached them. The basket on her arm looked out of place with the brightly colored robes layered over a straight white tunic. The floating material of the outer garments billowed as she walked. Bardon suspected she couldn’t decide which color appealed to her most and so put them all on, one on top of the other.
“We’re going to close the doors now that you’re here,” she said. “Jue Seeno is to eat with us, and the servants are not allowed in the room. She’s a bit nervous, as you can imagine.”
She handed N’Rae the basket. “Bardon, Mistress Seeno wants you to sit next to ‘that tumanhofer’ and keep him distracted. Steer him out of any conversation dealing with the minnekens.”
He leaned over the little creature’s traveling abode. “Yes, Mistress.”
Her high-pitched answer could be heard clearly through the woven reeds. “Don’t you get smart with me, boy.”
When they sat for the dinner, Sir Dar gave thanks to Wulder, ending with “By Your might and wisdom, may we live and breathe.”
“Prejudice, that’s what it is,” said the tumanhofer after several helpings.
“I beg your pardon, Bromptotterpindosset,” said Bardon. “I don’t know of what you speak.”
The mapmaker tilted his head toward Jue Seeno’s small table and chair sitting among big tureens of soup, baskets of rolls, and platters of meat.
“She’s prejudiced against tumanhofers. Thinks we have no discretion.”
“I believe she is worried for the privacy of her people.”
“Humph!”
The tumanhofer’s grunt reminded Bardon of Wizard Fenworth.
Bromptotterpindosset chewed and swallowed, his fork already stabbing into another chunk of meat. “Did you know there is no foundation for prejudice in the Tomes?” He waved the fork for emphasis.
Bardon thought for a moment. “I haven’t pursued that concept in any study I’ve done.”
“Well, there isn’t. I’ve studied Wulder’s Tomes as well as other religions of the world.”
He nodded. I was supposed to steer Bromp away from talk of the minnekens. I think he has done it himself. But I’m not sure exactly what we are talking about now.
The tumanhofer pointed to Bardon’s other side, where N’Rae sat. “Your little emerlindian is about to burst into tears.”
The squire turned abruptly and caught N’Rae dabbing at her eyes with the napkin.
“What’s wrong?”
“Everything,” she answered in a small, pitiful voice. “I shouldn’t be enjoying this fancy meal and fine clothes and even music coming from somewhere. Where is the music coming from?”
Bardon waved a hand toward one of the walls where the ornate paneling hid a small chamber. “There are musicians behind that false wall.”
N’Rae’s face took on the expression of a startled deer. She peered at the panel and then at Jue Seeno. “They can’t see her, can they? She would be so upset.”
“No, there’s a black cloth backing the open work of the carving. The sound can penetrate, but the room here is still private.”
The girl relaxed but still looked miserable. Another tear formed in the corner of her eye.
Bardon patted her hand. “Tell me, what’s wrong?”
“We’ll never get to the fortress where my father is prisoner. At this rate, the Wizards’ Plume will pass under the Eye of the North long before we even cross the border into the Northern Reach.”
“We’ll make better time riding dragons, and we leave early tomorrow. Do not give up hope, N’Rae.”
She sniffed and smiled wanly. “It’s just that suddenly I felt so guilty, Bardon. I was so happy with the dress and this beautiful place. The pleasure of it all seemed wrong somehow.”
“In the first Tome, Wulder says, ‘Taste now and imagine. For this pleasure is as a grain of salt to what I have prepared for you who follow Me.’”
“So it’s not wrong to enjoy this.”
“Not in the least.”
After dinner, the guests mingled for a while. Bardon spotted Mistress Seeno cornered on the ledge over the hearth by the inquisitive mapmaker. Jue Seeno sent him a beseeching look that begged for rescue. Bardon approached